


All Feelings But This One

by clairza



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Academy, Backstory, F/M, precanon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-29
Updated: 2015-06-29
Packaged: 2018-04-06 20:47:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4236078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clairza/pseuds/clairza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Backstory. Kara, Zak and Lee in 16,800 something words.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Feelings But This One

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted 22/6/2005

One of the few things Kara hated about being a flight instructor was being rostered on for lock up. Especially when that included the simulation rooms, because that inevitably meant waiting and waiting for pilots to finish, or shutting down the power and kicking them out before they had completed their circuits, which certainly didn’t make her a popular person.   
  
This particular day, however, there was only one screen that wasn’t blank, and she watched, curious, as the Viper on it tried to manoeuvre through one of the basic obstacle courses. It was doomed, she knew that even before the pilot tried a clumsy barrel roll, and it was no surprise to see the Viper hit the side of the tube and explode about three seconds later.   
  
“Frak!” she heard from inside the closest sim, and she stepped over and rapped on the door.   
  
It opened immediately, and the cadet flushed. “Sir! I’m sorry, I was just – “  
  
“I know, I was watching.”   
  
She looked him up and down; he was still in uniform, his dark hair damp with sweat. His face was unfamiliar to her, but that wasn’t surprising. A new semester had just started, and the school was full of new students, all of whom were still somehow getting lost between the dorms and their classes in the morning.  
  
“Right. I’ll just get going then.” He started to clamber out of the sim.  
  
She stopped him. “You know what you’re doing wrong?”  
  
“Everything?” he said, with such a wry smile that she liked him on the spot.  
  
“Well, close. What’s your name?”  
  
“Zak. Zak Adama, Sir.”   
  
“Well, Adama, for starters, you’re going too fast. Remember that your plane has momentum, so hold up on your thrusters. You’re using them too much.”  
  
He nodded, his fingers tracing over the stick as if he wasn’t used to the feel of it. “Yes, Sir.”  
  
“And anticipate the turn before you are there,” she added. “Try again.”   
  
She closed the door on him and punched in the simulation, then stood back so she could watch his progress on the screen above his simulator. She’d chosen one of the two simplest courses, one she could have completed in less than thirty seconds, and she watched as he moved through it painfully slowly.  
  
It was over two minutes before he finished, but he made it through with his Viper intact, and she thought she heard something like a whoop of exultation before the door slid open. He grinned up at her, running a hand through his hair.   
  
“Well done,” she told him. “See what I mean?”  
  
“Yes, Sir.”  
  
“Good. Now get out of here so I can lock up.”  
  
He swung himself up and out of the simulator and saluted. “Good night, Sir. And thanks.”  
  
“Good night, Adama,” she said, shutting down the main computer. “Oh - and I’m Starbuck.”  
  
“I know,” he answered from the door, and then he was gone.  
  
*  
  
She pulled up his unofficial file the next day, flicking through the ‘A’s in the filing cabinet in the staffroom until she came to “Adama, Lee,” and “Adama, Zak”.   
  
She took both their folders out. Lee, she remembered from the Academy; he had been a year older, but the top students were always known at least by name to each other, and Lee Adama had been no exception. If anything, they’d been compared so often she’d gone out of her way to avoid him.  
  
His folder was brimming with flight reports and assignment sheets and she read a couple out of curiosity;  _natural, shows intuition and leadership, style and flair in the cockpit_. Nothing she hadn’t had on hers.   
  
Then she picked up the second file. “Zak Adama” was written neatly across the front, and then, in brackets, _Husker’s kid_. The initial reports he’d received had the same phrases over and over;  _trying hard, landings need work_ , and one, a confidential first assessment, had ‘doesn’t have the talent of his family’ in Triplecheck’s neat print, followed by ‘won’t make Vipers’.  
  
“What are you looking at?” Triplecheck asked, coming in to the staffroom with a mug in one hand and sheaf of papers in the other.  
  
“The Adamas,” she replied, as he sat down at the table and drained the last of his coffee.  
  
“Ah, Zak. Why the interest?”  
  
“I saw him practicing in the sims last night.”  
  
“I’ve caught him doing that twice already. How was he?”  
  
“Crap.”  
  
Triplecheck nodded. “Yeah. Commander Adama’s son. Not like he has any pressure on him.” He took an apple out of the fruit bowl and bit into it. “Poor kid. He won’t make it, but it’s not through lack of trying.”  
  
“It’s only been two weeks,” she retorted. “Don’t you think that’s a bit of a premature assumption?”  
  
“When you’ve been a flight instructor as long as I have, Starbuck, you’ll be able to pick them.” He leaned over her, still chewing, and stole a piece of her chocolate. “See you after 201 – meeting in the mess.”  
  
She nodded, watched him leave the room and then picked up Zak Adama’s file yet, studied the three words that made up Triplecheck’s prediction for his future.  
  
*   
  
It took her a good half hour to track him down, which was surprising given it wasn’t one of the biggest flight schools. She went through the mess hall, the quad and was finally directed to the library and she’d walked through three of the levels before she finally found him. He was sitting against the wall at the end of one of the aisles with the Basic Flight manual open on his lap.   
  
He started to get to his feet when he saw her approaching, but she waved him back down. “Adama.”  
  
“Sir?”  
  
“Meet me at the sims, 2130. I’m your new flight coach.”  
  
He looked disbelieving for a moment, and then a grin spread across his face.   
  
“Thanks, Sir,” he said. “I’ll be there, Sir.”  
  
She nodded. “Cadet,” and spun on her heel. He had a cute smile, she decided. Not that she’d noticed.   
  
*  
  
It wasn’t until the third week in a row that he was anything less than twenty minutes early, and she quickly found out that what he lacked in talent, he made up for in effort alone. She’d never taught a student with so much intensity when it came to  _learning_  who was so totally devoid of natural talent, and she found herself reluctantly agreeing with Triplecheck’s assessment of him.  
  
Every week, she kept planning to tell him that it had been the last training session, but the gratitude in his eyes always made the words stick in her throat, and gave her some idea of how it felt, being in the shadow of his father and brother.   
  
She was trying to talk him through the perfect barrel roll when he interrupted her in the middle of a sentence.   
  
“What’s your real name?”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Well, it’s not Starbuck.”  
  
She paused. “Ace it this time and I’ll tell you, Adama,” she replied, not expecting anything of the sort, given he’d flunked it every time he’d done it in the session.   
  
This time, however, he nearly, nearly pulled it off, and when he opened the door he was looking so pleased with himself that she didn’t have the heart to argue and insist that his barrel roll wouldn’t have passed any exam.  
  
“So?”  
  
“It’s Kara. Kara Thrace.”  
  
“Kara. Pretty.” He smiled, and she felt a wave of warmth run right down to her toes. “It suits you.”  
  
“Charmer.”  
  
“Honest.”  
  
She rolled her eyes and couldn’t help smiling back. “Tell anyone – “  
  
“And you’ll make me suffer. I know.”  
  
“You learn fast. I like that.”  
  
The weekly lessons soon became routine, and one month passed, then two. His progress was slow, painfully so, but it was progress at least, and his reports were dotted with phrases like  _improving_  and  _landings_  more solid now.  
  
She got to know the way he laughed, the way he held his jaw when he was concentrating. She learnt about his family - listened to endless stories about his brother, heard the same few about his father over and over.   
  
They spent time discussing things that were apparently deeply important; one day, when they were smoking in the darkness after Kara had locked up, he found out she hated fishing and simply couldn’t believe it.  
  
“What do you  _mean_ , Kara?”  
  
“It’s stupid. You sit in a boat for six hours with a hook in the water. Spare me.”  
  
He waved his hand around, the cigarette tracing a glowing path in the air. “It’s more than that.”  
  
“Yeah. Sleep. That’s about it.”  
  
“It is being at one with nature.”  
  
She laughed. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”  
  
“It is not. It’s the best sport in the world. After pyramid,” he amended, caching her glare and she grinned, blew out a breath of smoke.  
  
“Nice save, Adama.”   
  
She almost didn’t notice she got home just a little later every week.  
  
*  
  
Kara was in the middle of a mock argument with Triplecheck over lunch, fighting off teasing insinuations about her flying ability, when there was a soft knock on the staffroom door.   
  
Nova yanked it open and put her hands on her hips. “What do you want?” she demanded imperiously and then cracked up at the startled look on Zak’s face. “Who would you like to speak to, Adama?” she said, going back to her normal voice, and he grinned.   
  
“Starbuck, Sir.”  
  
Kara got up, ignored Nova’s curious look in her direction, and stepped outside the staffroom.  
  
“Adama?”  
  
“I won’t be able to make the session tonight,” he said. “I’m sorry – my father’s dropping on his way back to his ship, and I only found out today – “  
  
“Oh.” She felt a sudden rush of disappointment. He was studying her carefully. “That’s fine,” she said, with a smile. “I understand. Is next week okay?”  
  
“Well,” he said, “If you didn’t mind – I could come tomorrow night. If you didn’t have anything else.”  
  
She didn’t care if she did. “I’ll see you then.”  
  
*  
  
Two weeks later, he had his first really abysmal session.   
  
“Spit it out, Adama,” she said finally, as his distraction cost him another Viper and he wasn’t at all interested in listening to her lecture about his turning.   
  
“Sir?”  
  
“Your flying’s been off all day. What’s bugging you?”  
  
He seemed to hesitate, and then he shrugged and pulled something white out of his pocket. “Happy birthday,” he said, holding out an envelope.   
  
It caught her completely by surprise. “How did you know?”  
  
“You’ll have to work that out,” he said, as she turned it over and over in her hands. “Go on. Open it.”  
  
She slit the top with her fingernail, and pulled the two pieces of paper out, and laughed. Two tickets for Caprica verses Sagittaron at the Agacantheon Center, good seats in the first tier, right on the halfway line.  
  
“How did you know?”  
  
“Kara, you’re obsessed with that team.”  
  
“That’s because they’ve got the best shooters Caprica has had in years.”  
  
“Yeah, yeah,” he said, sounding long-suffering, and she laughed again and gave him a quick hug.  
  
“Thanks.”  
  
“You’re welcome.”  
  
They stood there, grinning at each other.   
  
“So,” she said finally.  
  
“So…?”  
  
“You bought me two tickets?”  
  
“I didn’t think you’d want to go alone.” He was desperately trying not to look hopeful.   
  
She grinned, folded one of the tickets and slipped it into his pocket.  
  
“Meet you at 1800 sharp, Adama, Barter Street Gate.”  
  
“Sir,” he said and saluted, his eyes sparkling, and she turned on her heel and left the room before the grin on her face got any wider.   
  
*  
  
Summer came with a vengeance and the sims room was stuffy and smelled of sweat even at ten at night. They finished twenty minutes early, mostly because Zak refused point blank to spend one more moment in a cockpit and she couldn’t be bothered arguing with him.   
  
“Gods, it’s sweltering,” she said, draining the last of her water. It was lukewarm, tasted metallic and she pulled a face and worked at not spitting it out.  
  
“Hey, you haven’t been stuck in a sim for the last half hour,” he told her. “There’s no air intake in those things and you know it.”  
  
“Yeah, yeah.” The material of her tanks was sticking to her like glue and she rolled her shoulders, arched her back and tried to get rid of the stubborn aches from too many hours in the cockpit. “It shouldn’t be this hot, especially this late.”  
  
“Hold still,” he said, and then he was kneading the muscles across the top of her shoulders, his thumbs digging in with just the right amount of pressure.  
  
“Oh,” she breathed out, letting her head fall forward. “How good would a beer be right now?”  
  
“Tell me about it,” he said absentmindedly, and then his hands stopped moving for a moment. “I know the perfect place.”  
  
And there it was, the tiniest hint of a challenge, and she hesitated because she’d had the feeling this whole thing was moving towards something she wasn’t ready to face, ever since they’d spent three hours walking home from the pyramid game when it only took about twenty minutes.  
  
“Right,” she said, finally, because she was Starbuck and Starbuck was not a coward. “Then let’s go.”  
  
*  
  
The perfect place turned out to be a cheap looking dive quite close to her apartment block. The bouncer greeted him by name and waved him inside. Zak had her fingers tight in his and he led her straight to the bar, didn’t give her time to think, escape.   
  
“Good day?” the bartender asked.   
  
“Better than most,” Zak replied, while Kara looked around, studying the walls, the crowd of people packing every booth, spilling out onto the dance floor.   
  
“Who’s your friend?”  
  
“This is – “ Zak looked at her, and then back at the bartender. “Jim, this is Kara.”  
  
Jim slid a drink across the counter. “Kara. Pretty name.” She reached for her wallet and he shook his head. “On the house.”  
  
“Thank you.” She smiled, watched as Jim filled a glass with beer for Zak and pushed it towards him. Zak picked it up, just as someone sang out “Yo, Adama!” from behind them.   
  
A group over in one booth was waving, and Zak grinned back. “Come meet some people,” he said, and dragged her over to the table.   
  
He introduced her to his friends; she didn’t recognise one of the faces, and wondered how he got to know them, wondered why the pilots were so conspicuously lacking. He kept his hand on the small of her back the entire time, his thumb rubbing the skin in between her jeans and shirt.  
  
Zak bought the second round, she paid for the third and things got a little blurry around the fourth. All she was really conscious of was the way he was looking at her, how she got a flash of heat low in her stomach every time his fingers brushed hers. By the fifth, she was aching to feel those hands on her skin, taste that mouth and she dragged him out onto the dance floor, into the crowd of people.   
  
The smell of sweat and beer was heavy in the air, the floor wet with spilled alcohol and she put her hands on his shoulders, moved in so her hips were swaying lightly against his with every beat of the music. “Kara,” he said, his lips touching her ear and it wasn’t enough, and she traced her hands down his arms and twisted her fingers into his belt loops, pulled him closer.   
  
*  
  
Kara didn’t quite know how they made the progression from dancing to kissing to slamming into the cushions of her couch because they couldn’t make the extra meters to her bedroom. She also knew there were many reasons, good reasons, as to why they shouldn’t be doing this, but he was kissing her like he wanted no one else, almost reverently and her body arched involuntarily and she had to bite her lip to keep from moaning as his hand traced a path from her hip bone to her thigh.  
  
*  
  
She woke up completely disoriented, half crushed into the back of a couch by a warm, muscular back.  
  
Her couch, she realised slowly, which was strange. She never brought anyone back to her apartment.   
  
The hand on her stomach shifted and she tensed.  
  
She rolled over to face him.   
  
“Morning,” he said, his fingers beating out a random rhythm along her side that made it really hard to think.  
  
“Look, Zak, this was fun, but – ”  
  
He laughed, and the sound was so unexpected she lost what she was about to say.   
  
“But it can’t happen again, it was just a release of tension, we can still be friends – yeah, I’ve heard it all before, Kara.”  
  
She smiled in spite of herself, planted a palm on his chest and pushed him a little further away. “Then let me up, Adama, since I clearly don’t need to say anything more.”  
  
“Sure.” He shifted, and she clambered awkwardly over the top of him, and then realised exactly what a position she had put herself into, with the bedroom a good couple of meters away and the warm sunlight brightening the room. It didn’t help that he was already staring at her, tilting his head with the faintest of smirks.   
  
It sent a shiver of heat down her spine, and she leant over and grabbed some clothes off the floor, flung him his boxers and pulled his T-shirt over her head. It just covered everything. It also smelled like his sweat, deodorant and that was distracting, and she couldn’t help remembering the way she’d pulled it off him the night before, desperate to get her hands on his skin.  
  
She wrapped her arms around herself.  
  
“I’m going to shower,” she told him. “I’m sure you have somewhere to be.”  
  
Once the water was on, she sagged against the wall and tried to tell herself that she hadn’t wanted this.  
  
*  
  
When she emerged in sweats and a t-shirt, finger combing her hair, he hadn’t left. He was cooking breakfast in his boxers, and the sight was so incongruous that she laughed.   
  
“Can’t you take a hint?” she told him, walking into the kitchen.   
  
He held up his hands. “You were in my shirt!”  
  
She slapped it over his shoulder. “There.”  
  
“Keep it,” he told her, and added, with a smirk, “It looked good on you.”  
  
She sent him a glare that normally froze the heart of the bravest nugget. He grinned at her.  
  
“Are you trying to make this difficult?”  
  
He opened her pantry, and picked up her bottle of instant coffee with a look of disgust. “Is this all the coffee you have?”  
  
She took the bottle off him and put it down on the counter. Leaned against the fridge and mentally ran through the rules of Starbuck One Night Stands. She thought, on first count, she’d broken at least ten of the twelve, starting with  _don’t frak people you have to work with_ , moving through  _never bring then back to your own apartment_ , and finishing with  _never, ever stay for breakfast_.  
  
“Zak, I am your flight instructor.”  
  
“It’s not against regulations.”   
  
“Bullshit. I’m your superior officer.”  
  
“I’m not in your direct line of command. If I was in any of your classes, it would be different, but as it is…”  
  
She shook her head, couldn’t help the grin. “When exactly did you do all of that research?”  
  
“A while ago,” he said evasively, moving towards her, backing her into the fridge door. “Is that the only problem you have?”  
  
It wasn’t, she had many, but it was getting hard to think with him so close. “Don’t you have class, or something?” she managed, with her hands braced on his chest.  
  
“No,” he said, and his tongue flicked out against the skin of her neck and she shivered, fingers flexing on warm skin. “Don’t you?”  
  
“Not until later.”  
  
“Good.”  
  
*  
  
It was hard at flight school, seeing him lying in the sun on the quad, passing him in the library or pushing in front of him in the lunch line, and not being able to acknowledge him beyond a nod and quick smile.   
  
She didn’t quite know why they were keeping it such a secret, but part of it was that she didn’t know if she would be able to continue training him if the other instructors found out, and as she couldn’t work  _that_  question into a casual conversation, she said nothing at all. She wasn’t willing to bet Zak’s future as a pilot on a hunch, and she had no illusions as to his chances if she didn’t help him.   
  
On the other hand, she’d never been so profoundly grateful a student hadn’t been placed in her classes.  
  
*  
  
“Adama, Adama.”  
  
“Just the person we’ve been looking for.”   
  
Kara watched with interest as Saunders, Owen and Messenger took up positions around Zak at a table in the mess. He had his back to her, and she didn’t think he knew she was there.   
  
“Who is she?”  
  
“Who is who?” she heard him answer.  
  
“The woman that keeps you out of the dorms.”  
  
“And don’t deny it.”  
  
“I’m not denying it.”   
  
There was a sound of palms slapping together, and Owens said “I knew it!” triumphantly.  
  
“So who is she?” Saunders was leaning over the table, her chin resting on one hand, head tilted to one side.   
  
“That, I’m not telling.”  
  
“Why? Is she married?”  
  
“I bet she’s married.”  
  
“Or, she’s really, really ugly.”  
  
“Dean!”   
  
“What?” Owen said unrepentantly. “I just said what we were all thinking. Ow, Kelly!”  
  
“So. Is she?”  
  
“What?” Kara could tell by Zak’s tone that he was getting frustrated, and she got to her feet and made her way over to the table.  
  
“Is she ugly?”  
  
There was a slight pause, and then Zak said “No”, so emphatically that all three antagonists were silent and Kara chose that moment to cough politely. She saw his back stiffen for an instant before he turned and saluted with the others.  
  
“Nuggets,” she said, nodding her head at them. “Adama, a word?”  
  
He pushed his chair back, followed her a little way away. She could see the group over his shoulder, all carefully not looking at them both.  
  
“Sir?”  
  
“I’m going to be about half an hour late for sims tonight.”  
  
He nodded. “2200, then?”  
  
“See you then.”  
  
“Yes, Sir.” And he grinned – nothing that would break regulation – and she had to fight the smile, fight the urge to reach out and brush the crumb of bread from the front of his tanks.  
  
“Dismissed,” she said instead, and turned to pick her stuff up off the table, lingering long enough to hear Zak’s chair grate on the concrete floor as he sat back down.  
  
“What did God want?” Saunders asked. “Lords, she’s a bitch.”  
  
“Training session,” Zak answered shortly, and then she was out of ear-shot.  
  
*  
  
“Saunders has a thing for you,” she said later, when they were sitting on her tiny excuse for a balcony.   
  
“She does not.”   
  
“She does.” She ground out her cigarette and blew out the last breath of smoke into the cool night air.  
  
“You were listening the whole time, weren’t you?”  
  
“It’s possible.”  
  
He laughed, and she felt it from where her back was pressed against his chest. “I knew it.”  
  
There was a moment of silence.   
  
“She’s a bitch, you know.”  
  
“Who?”  
  
“Saunders.”  
  
She shrugged, still seeing the pretty brunette tilting her head at him over the table. His arms tightened around her waist.  
  
“And you’re way hotter,” he said, sounding so smug that she laughed.  
  
*  
  
Soon, the weekend meant at least one night out at the bar with Zak, playing triad with his friends (he was excellent at it, she found, which surprised her given how normally she found it easy read him), drinking (sometimes a little too much), and dancing, her hips swinging against his in time with the music from the live band, and laughing as Fowler and Gilbert made up ridiculous actions to match the lyrics. All which inevitably led to waking up the next morning, her legs tangled in his, wrapped up in him so securely she couldn’t tell who didn’t want to let who go.  
  
He was making her bed one morning when he knocked over the things on her bedside table with a pillow. She flinched. “Be careful,” she said quickly, as he picked her idols and weighed them in his hands, studying the carving.   
  
“They’re beautiful,” he said. “Where did you get them?”  
  
“Messena.” She took them out of his hands, and he watched her run her fingers lightly over Aphrodite and Artemis, wiping them free of the tiny film of dust that had collected overnight.   
  
“You really believe, don’t you?”  
  
She shrugged and placed them carefully back on their stand. “You do when it’s all you have left.”  
  
She left for the shower before he had time to say anything.  
  
*  
  
The knocking on her door woke her up at just past two in the morning - loud, obnoxious knocking that went on and on as she stumbled across the living room, snapping the kitchen light on and wrenching the door open.   
  
Zak was standing there, his shirt torn in three places and smudged with dirt, blood all over his face. He was also grinning wildly. “Kara!”   
  
“Shut up, you moron, there are people trying to sleep.”  
  
“Oh, sorry,” he said, as she pulled him inside and shut the door.  
  
“Gods, what happened to you?”  
  
His nose was still bleeding. “Shit. I’m dripping on your floor.”  
  
“It’s seen worse.” She handed him the tissue box. “Now what happened?”  
  
He grinned, holding tissues to his nose. “Well, I was at Gailey’s, you know? Playing triad, and I got into a fight.”  
  
“Never would have guessed.”  
  
“He was  _cheating_ , Kara.”  
  
She was grinning ear to ear. “Lords, how much have you  _had_?”  
  
The look on his face very, very guilty. “Don’t answer,” she said, laughing, and slung one arm around his waist, half dragged him across the hallway and shoved him inside the bathroom. “Get in, shower, and call me if you think you’re going to die.”  
  
“You’re so good to me.”  
  
She laughed again, rummaging through her drawers for some of his clothes. The water went on and he started whistling, and after a moment she recognised it as one of the drinking chants of the pilots.   
  
She shook her head. “When you’re done - are you listening?”  
  
The whistling stopped. “Yeah?”  
  
“When you’re done, your clothes are here.”  
  
By the time she’d finished cleaning up the floor, located her packet of painkillers and had rinsed the worst of the blood and dirt out of his shirt, leaving it to soak, everything was silent.  
  
“Zak?” She flicked the kitchen lights out and paused in the doorway of her bedroom.   
  
He’d passed out on the precise middle of her bed. She bit back a smile, shook her head and watched him sleep for a moment, studied the curve of his back, the way he had the sheets bunched in one hand, the line of his cheekbone, sharp in the moonlight.   
  
Then she clambered gingerly in beside him, tried to nudge him over so she got more room. “Throw up on me and die, Adama,” she whispered, wrestling back some of the bedding and he shifted, threw an arm around her waist and pulled her close to him.  
  
“Love you,” he said sleepily, and she stiffened, looked at him in shock, but he was already drifting off again, completely unaware of what he’d said.   
  
She went to sleep counting all the reasons why he shouldn’t.  
  
*  
  
She thought about it for a week straight and avoided him. Luckily, it was a week where he was almost as busy as she was, coming into exams so it wasn’t completely out of place, but it only took three days for her to work out how insidiously he’d crept under her skin.  
  
Every morning she woke up looking for him, her arm sweeping through the covers, trying to find his warmth. She couldn’t stop thinking about him - in the morning, missing his off-key whistling as he made breakfast, and when she found things he’d snuck into her apartment that she’d never really noticed – the razor, the toothbrush, a bottle of his favourite brand of coffee. The half finished crossword lying on her counter, ripped out of the  _Caprica City Daily_.   
  
It took her another week to realise that just maybe she was in love with him, and that thought terrified her almost as much as she missed him, maybe more.   
  
Her living room floor was a maze of student evaluation reports, and she was just finishing up marking the written tests when the door opened. She looked up, and he was standing there, leaning against the doorway and she couldn’t help the grin that exploded across her face at the sight of him, the feeling of things clicking back into place.   
  
“Hi, honey.”  
  
“Gods, you know I hate that.”  
  
He laughed. “Okay.” He picked his way gingerly across the floor, moved a stack onto the couch and sat down next to her, placed a hand on the other side of her body so she was trapped. “What would you prefer? My darling? My precious?”  
  
She made a gagging sound. Zak laughed, leant in and kissed her quickly. “Oh, wait. I’ve got it. My  _girl_.”  
  
She tried to shove him away. “No frakking  _way_.”  
  
He grinned then, kissed her again but longer and deeper, his tongue sliding across her bottom lip, his fingers twisting in her hair. She curled her hand around the back of his neck and tried to pull him even closer.   
  
“Miss me?” he murmured, in between kisses.  
  
“Not a bit.”  
  
That made him smirk against her mouth, and then he pulled away.   
  
She made a low sound of frustration. “Why are you stopping?”  
  
“Remember when I said you needed to meet my brother?”  
  
“Mmm?” She trailed a hand down his back, pulled at the back of his jeans. Danced her fingertips across the strip of skin showing.  
  
“Kara, stop that. He’s on holidays, and we’re going out for dinner.”  
  
“That’s fine.”   
  
“In half an hour.”  
  
“What? Now?” She sat up straighter. “Why didn’t you give me some warning?”  
  
“Relax.” He ruffled her hair and attempted to get up. “We’re not going anywhere classy.”  
  
“Zak – I –” She ran a hand through her hair, tried to settle it back down and quell the sudden rush of nervousness. “I don’t want to intrude.”  
  
“You won’t be.”  
  
“You haven’t seen him in months – “  
  
“Kara.” His eyes were dark, full of warmth and security, and one of his hands was just touching her waist. “I want him to meet you.”  
  
She took a deep breath. “Okay.”   
  
“Good.” He grinned at her, and she hooked her arms around him and let him pull her up. Leant into him and remembered something else she’d missed. “So. Half an hour.”  
  
His look was wary. “Kara...”  
  
She studied him carefully. “I need a shower.” She dragged her nails down the front of his chest, ignored his still damp hair and the smell of soap on his skin. “So do you.”  
  
He’d always been a pushover.  
  
*  
  
They were only ten minutes late, which was pretty good, she thought, given all they’d managed to do in that time, but Lee was standing outside the restaurant and as they approached, he tapped his watch and grinned.   
  
“Late again, Zak,” he said, but affectionately, and she played with the zipper of her jacket as the two men hugged, slapped each other on the back. She was nervous, which she resented; she hadn’t been nervous about anything for at least two years, but meeting Zak’s brother had her hands sweating.  
  
“Lee, this is Kara,” Zak said, and she stepped forward and studied the man she’d heard so much about. He looked nothing like Zak, she decided – roughly the same height, but Lee was slimmer, paler, with sharper features. He offered his hand, and she took it. His grip was warm.  
  
“Apollo.” She smiled. “I’ve heard so much about you.”  
  
“Oh, really?” He looked over at Zak, who grinned and held up his hands.   
  
“Hey, nothing but positive from me.”  
  
“So you’re the mighty Starbuck.” He smiled, blue eyes sparkling. “Are all the stories true?”  
  
“Depends on which ones you’ve been listening to,” she said with a grin, and then Zak’s stomach rumbled and they all laughed.  
  
Dinner turned out remarkably well; Lee’s sense on humour turned out to be exactly that of Zak’s, only with a slightly sharper edge, and she relaxed and listened as the two of them bounced off each other, listened to Lee’s stories about War College and Zak’s stories about flight school, most of which she’d heard.   
  
When Zak left to find out what had happened to their desserts, she fell into easy conversation with Lee about the Academy and by the time Zak returned triumphant, dragging a waiter behind him, they’d discovered six lecturers they had had in common and were discussing the simulators in the flight hall, laughing about the faulty one that often turned the left screen off at the worst possible moment.  
  
Three hours flew by.   
  
“I’m glad you get along,” Zak told her afterwards, hovering outside the restaurant as Lee got into the car.  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
She laughed, pulled his head down and kissed him thoroughly, until a cough behind them startled them apart.  
  
“When you’re done,” Lee said, leaning out of the window and she could hear the laughter in his voice, “some of us would like to get home before it’s morning.”  
  
Zak rolled his eyes. “See what I had to live with?”  
  
*  
  
The next day, they went to one of the parks down by the river and bought lunch from the food stalls along the walkway. They ended up sprawled on the lawn, with Zak and Lee trading childhood stories, much to Kara’s amusement. The similarities between them became more apparent the more she saw them together; the way they walked, their intonation pattern when they were exaggerating. Which seemed to happen a lot.   
  
“Anyway, Zak climbs the tree, right, and being the genius he is, he stands right underneath the nest and smashes it with his toy shovel. Ants come raining down out of the sky, all over him – “  
  
“- and you can see that Lee’s still not sorry – “  
  
“– and the next minute Zak’s screaming – “  
  
“– those things frakking  _bite_ , Lee – “  
  
“– and Mom came running out, and Zak blamed me – “  
  
“– you deserved it – “  
  
“ – and I wound up grounded for a month,” Lee finished, punching Zak lightly on one arm.   
  
“Yeah. Good story,” Zak told him. “Really heroic,” and Kara laughed, settled her head more comfortably in Zak’s lap as Lee lay down and threw one arm over his eyes. The sun was warm on her face, the sky dotted with clouds; a perfect day on Caprica.   
  
There was a moment of relaxed silence.  
  
"It's strange, isn't it?" she said. "That we fly up there? It looks so blue."  
  
"You and your Vipers.” Lee grinned at her, rolled a little onto his side. "You should be dating one of them instead of my brother."  
  
"Hey, I'm not the one who named my Viper," she retorted.  
  
He threw a twig at her. “Now, how did you hear about that?”  
  
“God knows all.”   
  
“Then you should know as well as I do that was a complete misunderstanding.”   
  
She snapped the twig in two and sent both pieces flying back, laughing as he tried to break the tiny pieces in half again.  
  
“Oh?” Zak said from above her. “I think I like the sound of this story.”  
  
“It is a good one. So, the scene: this is in his last year – “  
  
“Zak, this is all hearsay – “  
  
“Whatever. So, Lee found a practice Viper that he stuck to, right?”  
  
“Like most of us did.”  
  
“Who is telling the story, Apollo?”  
  
“There is no story. Besides, didn’t you name yours?”  
  
“Yes. But I didn’t name him after who I was frakking at the time.”  
  
Zak snorted with laughter. “He didn’t.”  
  
“Apparently, it was something about the way the Viper moved.” She smiled innocently at Lee. “Not that I would know.”  
  
Lee’s face was slowly flushing bright red. “That’s all over exaggerated and you know it, Starbuck.”  
  
She sent him a quick grin. “I do miss actually flying, though,” she told him. “I miss that about the Academy. I rarely go up without the cadets and they kinda cramp my style.”  
  
Lee laughed, and she caught Zak’s hand before he could poke her, and smiled up at him.  
  
“I know what you mean, though.” She looked over, and Lee was lying on his back, looking up into the sky. “If I don’t get up there once a week, I feel like I’m in a cage, or something.” He paused, and then shrugged a little. “That sounds stupid.”  
  
“No, it’s not.”  
  
He glanced over at her. His eyes were exactly the colour of the sky overhead.  
  
Zak laughed, shaking his head. "You are both as bad as each other," he said affectionately, reaching down and pushing her hair off her forehead.  
  
*  
  
“So, which one of you  _is_  the best pilot?”   
  
She was surprised, really, that Zak hadn’t asked the question earlier, given how she and Lee had been trading battle stories for the last four days. However, she was impressed with how innocent he sounded. He’d been spoiling for this fight for a long time.  
  
“I am,” she said, and Lee raised his eyebrows.  
  
“I think our grades would beg to differ, Starbuck.”  
  
“Oh, you can out-history me any day, Apollo. But in the air, well...” Kara cleaned the ice-cream off her spoon, swirling her tongue just so, smiled wickedly at Zak as he stared at her mouth. “There’s only one thing for it. Take you on, Adama?”  
  
Lee was looking at her as if he couldn’t quite collect his thoughts.  
  
“Lee? Are you game?”  
  
“On,” he answered finally. “But it’s late. Sims won’t be open.”  
  
“I’m an instructor, Lee. I have the keys. Coming?”  
  
He was already shoving his chair back. Zak shook his head, didn’t move from the table.  
  
“Get up,” Lee said, cuffing his shoulder as he passed.  
  
“There’s this show on Channel 11 – “  
  
Kara pulled him up by his shirt. “You’re coming. I want you there when I kick your brother’s ass.”  
  
“And I want you there when I prove your girlfriend a liar,” Lee retorted, from where he was bent over pulling on his socks.   
  
Zak groaned.  
  
“Hey, you started this,” she told him, as Zak’s jacket flew through the air and landed on the table. “Bring the last of the ice cream if you’re that miserable.”  
  
*  
  
They didn’t need her keys, in the end; Nova and Triplecheck were already there, and Zak let go of her hand instantly, stepped a little further away from her as Triplecheck and Nova greeted Lee.  
  
“So, what are you all doing here at this hour?” Nova said, when Triplecheck had finished a one minute interrogation of Lee about War College.  
  
“Same thing you are, I think,” Kara replied. “Apollo here claims he’s the better pilot.”  
  
Triplecheck laughed. “Oh, this I want to see.”  
  
Nova nudged Triplecheck with her arm. “I’ve got a better idea. You think we can take the Academy’s hotshot pilots?”  
  
“They wouldn’t stand a chance.” Triplecheck grinned, linked his fingers and flexed them dramatically. “You guys on?”  
  
Kara looked at Lee. He nodded, and there was a look in his eyes she recognised well, and her heart started beating just a little faster. “Viper-Viper or Viper-Cylon?”  
  
“Viper-Viper.”  
  
“Fairer.”  
  
“Fine with me. Lee?”  
  
“Done.”   
  
Zak had sunk down onto the couches in the corner and was lying stretched out, hands behind his head. “Don’t mind me,” he said to no one in particular. “I’ll just be asleep over here.”  
  
Kara threw her keys at him, and he caught them with one hand, grinned, and she turned back to the computer and started entering the settings. “You better be as good as they say you are, Adama,” she told Lee, out of the side of her mouth. “Or I’ll never live this down.”  
  
“Just don’t get blown up on me, Thrace.” She looked up and he smirked at her. “I don’t want to have to win this by myself.”  
  
Zak snorted with laughter from the couch, and she was trying to think of the perfect response when Triplecheck interrupted.  
  
“When you two are ready,” he called from his sim, “Some of us here would like to kick your ass.”  
  
They both laughed, and she punched in the last code with a flourish.   
  
*  
  
Triplecheck and Nova were good, Kara thought, as the four Vipers lifted into the air, and this was going to be a tough battle. They had decided on a five minute no-fire time, to get used to the terrain and to their partners - Kara knew it was to Nova and Triplecheck’s advantage, because they’d been flight partners for longer than she’d been a pilot.  
  
The rainforest was misty, dense with trees, and she knew a river curved through the forest at some point, and there was a beach somewhere and a steep mountainside around as well, but it wasn’t a topography she was familiar with; the mist made it harder for students so she rarely used the simulation.  
  
“Okay, Apollo,” she told him. “The mist is going to make visibility poor, and – “  
  
“Thanks for that insight, Starbuck, I never would have worked that out.”   
  
“What I was going to say, if you’d let me finish, is that Triplecheck and Nova use this simulation a lot, and they tend to ambush rather than play hide and seek.”  
  
He didn’t question her. “We need some way of using that to our advantage.”  
  
The next few minutes went quickly as they discussed tactics and got their bearings; rainforest ending on beachfront there, the river curved through a gorge here, and when the five minute signal beeped, she realised she hadn’t seen the movement of Triplecheck and Nova for at least four of them.  
  
“How good are these two?” Lee asked.  
  
“They’re like Fox and Switchblade,” she said, remembering the two lectures at the Academy who had been average pilots alone but almost unbeatable together.  
  
“Right,” he said. “So what’s the - frak, I can’t see them on dradis.”  
  
She checked hers. “How the hell did that happen?”  
  
“I don’t know. There must be a blind spot somewhere.”   
  
She thought about that for a moment. “Frak, there is.”  
  
“What?”   
  
“There’s this ridge that drops away really steeply, like a gorge, along one of these mountains.” The silence that followed that was accusatory. “I forgot!”  
  
“You  _forgot_?”  
  
“Excuse me for not memorizing all two hundred simulations!”  
  
“Well, which way were they moving?”  
  
“Left, but that means nothing,” she said, wracking her brains for the location. She looked around, but nothing looked familiar. “Where are they?” she said, almost to herself as she flew over the strange looking peak of one mountain and took almost one second too long to work it out, remembering at the last moment the steep fall-away on the other side of the tree line.  
  
“Shit, they’re going to bounce us. Apollo!”  
  
“Copy that. Frak. Get DOWN!”   
  
Two Vipers came flashing up over the ridge, fast and at such a steep angle she couldn’t get a firing solution on them. She saw Lee disappear into the tree line under heavy fire, and heard a string of curses, every god from Ares to Zeus included.  
  
She had no choice, dipped into the canopy and flew as low as she could as Triplecheck and Nova almost pulled out the perfect ambush, the branches of trees smacking into the glass of the cockpit and making it even harder to see.   
  
“Frak. Frakfrakfrak.” She rolled her Viper viciously out of the way off one tree and risked rising about the treetops, ducking down again in an instant when Triplecheck fired a burst at her. “Come on, Lee, we’re better than this!”  
  
“You think of something!”  
  
“Mine Shaft?”  
  
“Too predictable. Burton Wheel?”  
  
“Wrong terrain.” She could just make out the movement of his Viper to the left, through the treetops and the mist. “Need less coverage.”  
  
He laughed, and the sound was so relaxed that she felt the tension leave her body in one warm wave. “What we need is something they haven’t seen.”  
  
“There isn’t much they haven’t seen, Apollo,” she told him, losing her sentence in a flurry of fire as Triplecheck’s Viper was momentarily visible. “Anything.”   
  
“Got it,” he answered, after a moment. “Theban Feint.”  
  
She racked her brain for it, mentally flipping the pages of the course textbook.  
  
“It’s not textbook,” Lee said, as if reading her mind, and then the manoeuvre flashed into her head. “That’s why it stands a chance. You know, the one where – “  
  
“I’ve got it.” she replied. “Okay, we need to circle back – “  
  
“I know,” he cut her off. “I’ll take left.”  
  
They set it up carefully; Lee circled low to the left, her to the right, splitting the attention of Nova and Triplecheck and swinging around at the same speed.  
  
“Who is feinting?”   
  
“You want it?”  
  
“Frak yes,” she said, and he laughed. “Are you ready?”  
  
“When you are.”  
  
“Go!”  
  
They both rose from the canopy at the same instant, circling up and around in opposite directions, drawing a tight circle around the red-striped Vipers, rising higher and higher and taking the two with them.   
  
“Come on,” she whispered, slowing down, banking towards one of the Vipers – Triplecheck’s, she guessed, she recognised his style. “Take the bait. Come on come on – “   
  
And then it happened; Triplecheck fired a burst, she rolled, and her wing was singed and smoking.  
  
“Now,” Lee yelled, and she angled the nose of her Viper towards to the ground, cut off most of the power and let gravity tug her Viper into the perfect death spiral, shallow at first and then faster and deeper until the green of the tree tops was rushing up towards her.  
  
She could hear Lee breathing hard with the effort of keeping out of the fire of two Vipers, and she flexed her fingers around the stick, tried to stop herself from getting dizzy and losing her bearing.  
  
“A little help up here, Starbuck,” he snapped. She could hear the bursts of fire in the background.  
  
“Yeah, yeah, coming,” she retorted. “You better have them in the right frakking place.”  
  
The exact moment before the spiral went from being controlled to free falling, she punched on the power, wrenched back the stick and raised the nose enough to pull her out. The Viper shuddered beneath her, and she put it through a tight 270 and hit the thrusters to send her straight back upwards so fast that she was slammed back into the seat, so hard it was difficult to breathe. Lee had done his job perfectly, lured both Nova and Triplecheck into formation directly above her, and the two Vipers were black shadows against the sky; perfect targets.  
  
“Took your time,” he said, as she opened fire, and she watched Nova’s Viper blow up, shrapnel raining down into the forest. Triplecheck was quicker, and managed to angle his Viper towards her, but she was flying so fast she was up and over him before he fired. Lee swooped in from the opposite angle and Kara banked, rolled, and turned back just in time to see Triplecheck’s Viper explode into the most beautiful fireball she thought she’d ever seen as Lee yelled in exultation.   
  
Game over.  
  
*  
  
She almost fell, clambering out of the sims – not her most graceful exit, but she didn’t care because they had won, and Lee put out an arm to steady her.   
  
“So.”  
  
“So?”  
  
“You might just live up to your reputation,” she told him.   
  
He raised an eyebrow at her. “Might?”  
  
“Okay, so that was a good idea.”  
  
He laughed. “Don’t over-do the compliments there, Kara.”  
  
“I wouldn’t want to feed that ego.”  
  
His eyes were sparkling, and she was waiting for the comeback she knew coming, when Nova and Triplecheck finished their debrief and came over to join them.  
  
“You make one hell of a team,” Nova said, after they all shook hands. She wiped the sweat off her forehead, started pulling her gloves off. “What was that last move?”  
  
“Theban Feint.”  
  
“Oh, yeah, I thought I’d seen it somewhere. It’s used in that demo, isn’t it?”  
  
“Yeah, the one for advanced flight.”  
  
“Not textbook.”  
  
Lee smirked. “No.”  
  
“Yeah, yeah, rub it in,” Triplecheck retorted. “You’ll have to think of something else next time.”  
  
“Shame. It’s a good one.”  
  
“It’s the corkscrew that does it,” Nova added. “We thought you were out, Starbuck, and then you came out of nowhere. I’ve never seen one so deep pulled off.”   
  
“It was lucky your engines took it.”   
  
“It was not luck,” Kara said arrogantly, and then laughed as Triplecheck rolled his eyes.   
  
“Was she always like this?” Nova asked Lee.  
  
Lee grinned. “Worse, apparently.”  
  
“Hey!”  
  
He laughed, slung an arm around her shoulders.   
  
“How often did you fly together?” Triplecheck asked, and Kara shrugged, grinned up at Lee.  
  
“First time.”  
  
“Frak me.”  
  
“Are you serious?”  
  
“You were  _never_  paired at the Academy?”  
  
“Nope.”  
  
They both looked so incredulous that she laughed.   
  
“They would never let us fly together,” Kara proclaimed, waving her free arm around extravagantly. “We would have kicked everyone’s asses.”   
  
Triplecheck snorted. “Wait until the rematch.”  
  
“Plus we nearly had you. We would have, too, if,” and Nova raised her voice, “if my frakking partner hadn’t come over that rise three seconds too early.”   
  
“Oh, that’s right,” Triplecheck said, swatting Nova lightly on her elbow. “Blame me, as usual.”  
  
“I do.” She threw her gloves at him. “Oh, I do, so much.”   
  
Lee laughed. He was sweaty, his shirt sticking to his back and stomach and Nova looked him up and down, and glanced back at Kara mischievously, and mock whispered. “I’ll take yours, if you don’t want him.”  
  
“You’ll do no such thing,” Triplecheck said indignantly and then looked at Lee’s arm, still around Kara’s shoulders, and winked. “Besides, I think he’s taken.”   
  
Kara felt Lee tense beside her, felt the heat rise in her face and his arm fell off her instantly, and she turned. Zak was sitting on the edge of the couch with something she’d never seen before in his face.   
  
Nova saw the look and turned as well, and Zak got to his feet. He saluted Triplecheck and Nova, and then Kara, almost as an afterthought. “Sirs.”  
  
Triplecheck waved him at ease. “Enjoy the show?”  
  
“Yes, sir.”   
  
“You’ll be as good as your brother, one day?”  
  
Zak’s smile got a little more forced. “I’ll try, sir.”  
  
“See you tomorrow, Kara,” Triplecheck said. “Nice seeing you again, Apollo.”  
  
Lee nodded, gave a quick easy salute and Nova grinned. Then the door shut behind them and it was just the three of them.  
  
“That was some amazing flying,” Zak said, stuffing his hands in his pockets, and smiling but it was still just a little crooked, just a little sharp at the edges. “Really amazing.”  
  
There was a beat of silence.   
  
“They don’t know?” Lee asked quietly.  
  
Zak shrugged. “No.”  
  
“It’s against rules?”  
  
“Not exactly.” Lee turned to look at her, his eyes hard, and she gestured with her hands. “It’s more – not advised.”  
  
“Oh.”  
  
“I’m not going to test him, Lee. You don’t need to worry.”  
  
Lee nodded again, then glanced at his watch. “It’s late. I should go. Thanks for that, Starbuck.”  
  
“Anytime,” she told him, with a slight grin. “You both go, if you want. I’ll lock up.”  
  
Lee nodded, and picked up his jacket. Zak hovered at the door as she put the computer systems on standby.  
  
“So who was better?” she said finally, attempting to make him smile.  
  
He did, but it still wasn’t right. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”  
  
She nodded. “Sure.”  
  
“Sleep well,” he said, kissed her forehead and was gone before she could say anything else.  
  
That night, she dreamt of Lee flying with her, his Viper swooping down and over hers, moving to the same rhythm, beat for beat, as easily as breathing.   
  
*

She spent a good part of the next four days with Lee – her teaching schedule was light for the week while Zak had class after class – and they ended up spending a lot of that time in the sims. She beat him four times, he beat her once (she thought about calling it a fluke, but decided against it). On the second day they did nothing but practice flight manoeuvres, starting with the easier wheels and circuits, and progressing to the complex, Creon’s Switch, the Bracken Pass, testing themselves against the Cylons.  
  
They never lost, and most times they finished a session to find at least a few people watching.   
  
“I can’t believe you weren’t in my year,” she told him ruefully, at the end of the second morning, stripping off her sweat drenched tanks with her back to him. “We would have been unstoppable.”   
  
“Apollo and Starbuck once again victorious – ”  
  
“Starbuck and Apollo has a much better ring.”  
  
He laughed, threw his shirt at her, and she peeled it off her shoulder with a grimace and chucked it back.   
  
“Charming, Apollo. Did that move work on all the girls?”  
  
“I’d have never tried it on you, Starbuck.”  
  
*  
  
Zak came over at past eight on Lee’s eighth day of holidays, tossing his jacket on the floor beside her door and flopping onto her bed. She grinned, taking another shirt out of the washing basket and folding it neatly.   
  
“How was your afternoon?”  
  
“Good,” he said, rolling over so he could look at her. “We had dinner at that noodle place down on Ninth. It was fun.”  
  
“I’m glad.” She smiled at him, stepping around the bed and hanging her uniforms in the closet. “What are you doing tomorrow?”   
  
“I’ve got class again.”  
  
“Skip it? Live on the edge, Zak.”  
  
“It’s Ranger’s and I can’t afford to miss a week, I’ll get behind,” he said, and added casually, picking at the counterpane, “He’d probably rather spend the time with you anyway.”  
  
She stopped pairing her socks. “What?”  
  
“Oh, half the class was talking about the Washburne Gauntlet you pulled off in the sims this morning.” His tone was almost perfectly light, teasing, and if it wasn’t for the fact he wasn’t looking at her, she would have bought it. “Even Triplecheck said it was the best he’d ever seen. You’re sure you’ve never flown together?”  
  
“Perfectly. I think I’d remember someone with such scrappy technique.”  
  
He didn’t laugh, kept pulling threads out. There was a long pause. “You know I’m never going to be able to fly like that.”  
  
She threw a pair of socks at him. “It doesn’t matter.”  
  
He gave a short laugh. “It doesn’t?”   
  
“Zak - ”   
  
“Don’t worry about it, Kara,” he said, getting up. “I’m going to shower.”  
  
He’d turned the water on before she thought of anything to say.   
  
*  
  
Zak left early the next morning, and she dozed off for another hour before she finally pulled herself out of bed. She was brushing her teeth, still wrapped in a towel and dripping with water when she heard a knock on the front door.   
  
“Kara?”  
  
“Not locked,” she called. Lee came into the bathroom. He stopped, comically skidding to a halt on the damp tile. “Oh, I’m sorry – I didn’t realise - ”  
  
She laughed through a mouthful of foam. Spat, rinsed, and looked up at him, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. He looked quickly at the floor.   
  
“Hey, it’s my fault. For some reason I thought you were Zak.”  
  
He coloured slightly, and she watched him curiously - embarrassment was not a reaction she thought he’d have. She ran a casual hand across the top of her towel, just in case. Everything was covered.  
  
“Good thing you didn’t come in three minutes earlier,” she said finally, picking up the floss, and he laughed, left the room.   
  
She tried to shrug off the uncomfortable feeling that she’d missed something.   
  
*  
  
They went out for dinner on Lee’s last night of holidays, just the three of them, to a nice little restaurant on Duke Street that Zak had discovered. It was dimly lit – “So you can’t see the food,” Kara told Lee, and Zak rolled his eyes – and the air was heavy with cigar smoke.  
  
She traded stories with Lee over main course, from the Academy days, each more outrageous than the last, both of them trying to outdo the other, while Zak listened and laughed.  
  
“It was good to meet you,” he said, at the transit centre, while Zak was off picking out magazines for Lee to read on his trip back.  
  
“Yeah.” She grinned. “It was great kicking your ass.”  
  
He rolled his eyes. “You wait, Starbuck.”  
  
They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, before he nudged her shoulder. “And thanks.”  
  
“What for?”  
  
He looked over at Zak. “For what you’re doing for him.”  
  
She shrugged. “He does most of it himself. I’ve never seen someone work so hard.”  
  
“Yeah,” Lee said quietly, and Kara got the feeling there was something he wasn’t saying, but then Zak came back with four magazines and a block of chocolate. They spent the rest of the time before Lee’s gate was called going over the new Viper series just about to be released.  
  
*  
  
Things fell back into the ordinary routine after Lee left, and she missed him, missed the discussions about the Academy and missed, guiltily, flying with someone who was equal in talent.  
  
She also missed Zak – she’d got so used to seeing him without needing an excuse, without that it was hard, falling back into the old ways of seeing each other when they could, once or twice a week at odd times, to try not to raise suspicion, although she figured it didn’t matter if they were a little more familiar around each other, now they had Lee as an excuse.  
  
She was having lunch in the staff room, picking at her salad and flipping through the latest training manual when Nova sat down beside her.  
  
“So, you’ve seen Apollo lately?”  
  
Kara nearly choked on a piece of tomato. “No. Should I have?”  
  
“Oh, so you guys aren’t –“  
  
“Uh, no.”  
  
“You just looked good together,” Nova said. “And they way you fly together – “ she let out a low whistle, “Well, I always said that was a sign.”  
  
She smiled. “Oh, well – “  
  
“His little brother is quite cute,” Nova went on speculatively, and Kara felt her skin heat up. “It must run in the family.”  
  
“I guess.”  
  
“Pity his flying isn’t up to it.”  
  
Kara put her knife and fork down on the plate with a little more force than necessarily. “Zak will be fine.”  
  
“Zak?”  
  
“That’s his name.”  
  
Nova threw her a sharp glance, and Kara felt suddenly like a cadet again, being berated for pulling off an illegal move in the sims. “Watch yourself, Kara. Don’t do him any favours because of his older brother.”  
  
Kara speared a piece of greenery with her fork. “I’m not.”  
  
“Good.”  
  
*  
  
Four months out from examinations, and she was just starting to panic.  
  
“You need to neaten your turns; you’re pushing too far left and it’s not neat, and it takes you more time to straighten.”  
  
He threw up his hands in frustration. “How?”  
  
Kara swallowed back her frustration and a caustic  _we’ve been over this_. “Wait until you can feel the weight of the Viper shifting left before using the thrusters, for starters.”  
  
“I’m doing that.”  
  
“No, you’re not.”  
  
Something in his jaw tightened. “I do everything you say.”  
  
“You’re not picking the right moment.”  
  
“How do you know the right moment?”  
  
“You can just - feel it, I don’t know, it’s that - ”  
  
“NO.” She jolted as Zak slammed his fist into the sim. “That’s where you don’t get it, Kara.” She instinctively looked around, and when she turned back to face him, he’d straightened, almost standing to attention. “I’m sorry. _Sir_.”  
  
She breathed in-out three times, restrained the urge to hit him. “What don’t I get, Adama?”  
  
He flinched at that, and glared at her. “Gods, you’re just like Lee. You don’t – .” He shrugged, shook his head and his shoulders relaxed. And then he looked defeated, and that was worse. “Look, don’t worry about it.”  
  
“Zak.”  
  
“I shouldn’t be here.”  
  
“That’s not true.”  
  
“I’m not going to make Vipers, Kara.” He traced along the edge of the cockpit again, almost gently, and she reached out and wrapped her fingers through his.  
  
He stared at their hands.  
  
“We’ll work through this,” she told him softly. “I’ll get you through. I promise.”  
  
He looked at her, and there was such a look of desperation and hopelessness in his eyes that she panicked and did something she’d never, ever done on campus, and pulled him to her, lacing her fingers behind his back and leaning into his shoulder. His arms wrapped around her reflexively and he drew her to him so closely that she could feel every breath he took. “Kara.” She felt him drop one kiss, two into her hair. “If I didn’t have you – ”   
  
He didn’t finish.  
  
*  
  
“When’s Lee coming again?”  
  
“He’s got holidays in another month or so. He said he was thinking about dropping in.” Zak looked at her curiously. “Why?”  
  
“I got these back today.” She picked up the photos Zak had taken on the last trip and flicked through them, passing them to him one after the other. “You don’t look much like him.”  
  
“No. He takes more after Mom. People never thought we were related.” There was a note of bitterness in his voice, and Kara knew he was thinking of more than the physical similarity between them. “What about you?”  
  
“What about me?”  
  
“Which of your parents do you look like?”  
  
He never gave up, she thought, wanting for a moment to smack him in the head. Lately, he’d been finding a way to bring a lot of conversations back to this point, like a dog after a bone, and it was driving her insane. “Why do you keep getting me to talk about my family?”  
  
“I don’t know, Kara. Maybe it’s because you never do?”  
  
“You more than make up for it,” she said snidely. “Lee this, Lee that, Dad this – “  
  
“Kara.” The expression on his face meant he knew what she was doing. “You never mention your family. You haven’t even got one photo of them anywhere. That’s not normal.”  
  
He waited, obviously expecting her to say something, and when she didn’t, he put his hand lightly on her shoulder. “Kara?”  
  
She shrugged it off. “I don’t want to talk about it.”  
  
“You never do,” he snapped back, sounding frustrated.   
  
“Why do you care so much?”  
  
“Because I care about you, and you never frakking tell me anything!” He was almost, almost yelling and she thought, strangely, of her neighbours before the expression on his face - part anger, part worry – broke her.  
  
“I don’t talk about my mother because she is an alcoholic bitch who never gave a frak about me because I was an accident and ruined her career.” Her voice was just starting to shake, and she clenched her hands. “There, happy?”  
  
There was total silence, and she didn’t know what she wanted; she wanted him to stop pushing her, but she was terrified he would. Then he reached out, traced the line of her wrists and curled his fingers around hers.  
  
“What about your father?”   
  
Her father. She closed her eyes, remembered the lullabies he’d sung to her, every night until she was six, and the prickle of stubble against her face when he kissed her goodnight. Remembered the rage that had simmered in his eyes the first time he’d come home from a night with his band and seen her mother’s handprint on her cheek. Remembered getting home from school, the two letters lying on the kitchen table, one with her name on it.  
  
_Be strong. The Gods will protect you. I’ll always love you._  
  
Barely making it to the bathroom before she threw up.  
  
“He didn’t stick around,” she got out finally, and shrugged a little. “He, um.”  
  
“How old were you?”  
  
“Twelve.”  
  
His hands tightened around hers and he tugged her close to him, didn’t say anything else.  
  
*  
  
Zak proposed about an hour after Caprica City beat Picon City in the grand final, on the middle of the sidewalk that meandered through the botanical gardens.  
  
“Is this just the flush of victory?” she asked, after she’d worked out how to talk again.  
  
“No,” he replied, his eyes dark and completely serious. “This has always been part of the plan.”  
  
“And here I was thinking you were nervous about the game.”  
  
He grinned, shifted on his feet. “You haven’t answered yet, you know. That’s the next part of this process.”  
  
She shook her head. “You’re insane, wanting to marry me.”  
  
“Is that a yes?”  
  
There was something squeezing her chest, tight, tighter, excitement and fear and happiness all rolled into one. “I – Zak – I just – are you sure you want – ”  
  
“Kara.” He grabbed her hands, held them tight. “You are the best thing in my life. I’ve never been surer of anything.” She could feel him shaking. “Can you please answer the question?”  
  
Her fingers were sweating, or maybe his were, and she tried to think of a world without Zak and couldn’t. “Yes.”  
  
“Is – that the answer?”  
  
She laughed. “Yes, you moron,” she said, and he sagged a little, the relief evident, and then he kissed her for so long when they separated she was dizzy, not sure where they were anymore.  
  
“One question...”   
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“What if we’d lost?”  
  
“They were never going to lose,” he answered, and she laughed, grabbed him by his garish yellow and blue scarf and pulled him to her, kissed him again and didn’t care who saw.   
  
*  
  
He took her to a jeweller the next day.   
  
“I don’t know,” she said, looking at the trays of rings, not wanting to even touch the blue velvet, let alone the diamonds. “I have no idea.”   
  
“Pick one,” he told her, and her fingers skimmed over the stones. Then she found what she wanted, right at the bottom; a plain, heavy looking silver band, slid it over her thumb.   
  
“That’s not an engagement ring,” Zak protested.   
  
“You think I could just walk into flight school with a diamond on my finger? This is perfect.”  
  
He still looked reluctant. “Kara...”  
  
“Zak. You can buy me diamonds later, okay?” She kissed his cheek. “This way, I can wear it.”  
  
“You’re insane.”  
  
“That’s why you love me,” she said lightly.  
  
“I do,” he said, and kissed her until the sales assistant coughed politely.  
  
She put her idols away that night, wrapped them carefully in soft cloth and tucked them deep in a drawer.   
  
She filled the spot with a photo of her and Zak in a simple frame, one Lee had taken on the day in the park, ran her fingers over wood every morning instead of the smooth stone.  
  
If Zak noticed, he didn’t say anything.  
  
*  
  
The next time Lee came to stay, it was for two weeks of his vacation, and he showed up three days early at her apartment with his bag slung over one shoulder.   
  
She nearly fell over when she opened the door, and he grinned.  
  
“Surprised?”  
  
“Yes,” she answered honestly. His once-regular calls had stopped a while before, so suddenly that she’d thought he’d dropped off Caprica entirely. The conversations she had had with him since – mostly when Zak rang him – had been cooler, cloaked with a reserve she didn’t understand. She grinned back, gave him a hug. “I didn’t realise you were coming today. I can’t wait for Zak to get in.”  
  
“Oh, he’s not here?”  
  
“No, he’s getting dinner – but come in.”  
  
He looked awkward. “I can come back.”  
  
“Don’t be stupid.” She grabbed the strap of his bag, tugged him inside and shut the door behind him.   
“Coffee?”  
  
“Please,” he said, dropping his bags next to the door, rolling his shoulders back as if they were aching. She filled the kettle with water and watched him as he sat down on a barstool, pulling another of Zak’s half finished crosswords towards him.  
  
“How’s everything?”  
  
“Good,” she replied. “Busy, like usual, but good. You?”  
  
“Same old, same old.”  
  
She laughed and tried to ignore the strange tension that she could feel around him. “We really are that boring, aren’t we?”  
  
He smiled, filled in one word with neat strokes of the pen. “I guess. How is Zak doing?”  
  
“Good,” she said, “good,” and Lee gave her a sharp glance.   
  
She was saved from elaborating by a bang on the door, and then Zak said “Kara?” pitifully from the other side. Lee laughed, got up and opened the door, and Zak half staggered in with his hands full of grocery bags, freezing when he saw Lee.   
  
“Hey,” Lee said, as if it was perfectly natural for him to be standing in Kara’s kitchen, and Zak’s face split into a huge grin.   
  
“It’s a good thing I got extra,” he said, placing the bags down carefully on the floor. “It’s good to see you.”  
  
“Good to see you too,” Lee said, cuffing his brother lightly on the shoulder. “Kara was just saying you were doing well.”  
  
“Yeah.” Zak reached out an arm and pulled her to him. “Did she tell you?”  
  
“No,” she answered for Lee. “I was waiting for you.”  
  
“Tell me what?”  
  
Zak was beaming, but Kara was watching Lee with slight apprehension. “She’s marrying me.”  
  
Lee froze. He glanced from her to Zak, and then down at her left hand, and she had to fight the urge to hide it behind her back. It was a good four seconds before he smiled, and even then it seemed shaky and she wondered if she was simply imagining the reserve in his eyes. “Kara, you’re insane.”  
  
She laughed, and he gave her a quick hug, kissed her cheek. The smile was more firmly in place now, and she shot a quick glance at Zak, but he was grinning and seemed oblivious.   
  
“Congratulations,” Lee said, turning to Zak. “Have you told Mom and Dad yet?”  
  
“No.” Zak looked slightly uncomfortable. “We’re keeping it quiet until after my graduation.”   
  
Lee nodded. “Well,” he said slowly, “I hope you’ll be very happy.”  
  
“Thanks.” Zak sounded so self-satisfied Kara rolled her eyes. “Now, how long are you here for? Where are you staying?”   
  
Lee laughed at the sudden onslaught of questions. “Well, I was thinking that same hostel – ”  
  
“Don’t be stupid. You can stay here. Right, Kara?”  
  
“Sure,” she said cheerfully. “Although, I’ll warn you now, the sofa bed is the most uncomfortable thing in existence.”  
  
For a second, the thought the expression on Lee’s face was something close to panic. Then it cleared. “That would be great.”   
  
*  
  
Zak left late; he had fitness first thing in the morning, and Kara dug through the closet for clean sheets, tried to quash the buzz of nervousness in her stomach. Lee and Zak had beaten the sofa bed into submission – it was temperamental at the best of times – and she padded over to the living room in her socks with her arms full of bedding, and watched from the doorway as Lee stripped his shirt off, threw it across the room and into his open bag.   
  
She had thought Zak was well built, but Lee was in another league entirely, and she wondered why she hadn’t noticed before.   
  
He turned, caught her watching and she flushed. Couldn’t look away, couldn’t read the look in his eyes.  
  
“How many hours in the gym is that?” she said, trying to sound simply curious.   
  
“A few,” he told her, pulling a clean shirt over his head.   
  
“Well, good night,” she got out finally, dumping the blankets and pillows on the bed. “Don’t blame me if you get no sleep on that thing.”  
  
“I’m sure it will be fine, Kara,” and it was there again, the curious look in his eyes, and she went to bed still thinking about it.  
  
*  
  
After two days more, she knew something was wrong. He barely spoke to her unless Zak was there, and seemed to have plans whenever she was free.  
  
He was also driving her insane, all little things that combined with his coolness towards her were making her want to tip his steaming coffee all over him every morning; his insistence on watching the Colonial News every evening, despite whatever else might be on, and the way he had to iron absolutely everything he wore. The fact there was not one subject, except perhaps the pyramid ladder, that he didn’t know everything about.   
  
She gave up trying to analyse it, and simply smiled a lot when Zak was around and wished the two weeks would go faster.   
  
As on all weekends, they ended up at the bar, and she was finally relaxing, talking with Zak and Fowler at the bar, when she heard someone say “Adama!” from right behind her.   
  
Both Zak and Lee turned simultaneously, and Kara grinned until she saw who was approaching, and then a prickle of shock and nervousness ran over her, because she knew him, just a little too well for comfort. She managed a smile as Lee and Anderson shook hands, and was glad that Zak’s arm was tight around her waist as Anderson saw her, started in recognition.  
  
“Kara, Zak, this is Will Anderson,” Lee said, oblivious. “Will, Zak is my younger brother, and Kara is his – “ he hesitated, his eyes on Kara’s hand and then finished. “Girlfriend.”  
  
Will smiled, offered his hand to Zak. “Zak, nice to meet you. And Kara – I think we’ve met?”  
  
“Yes, I think so,” she answered smoothly, shaking his hand in turn. She almost managed not to think of whimpering, crying out underneath him. “Quite a while ago now.”  
  
“Two years or so, yeah.”  
  
“Where did you guys meet?” Zak asked, and Will’s eyes flicked to Zak’s arm around her waist and back up to her face.  
  
“I was her flight partner once,” he said finally, not looking away from her. “It was quite an experience.”  
  
She flushed, and saw Lee’s quick look between them in her peripheral vision. “That’s what they all say,” she said lightly, and pulled Zak away.  
  
*  
  
Kara assessed the situation; three green left, all Lee’s, one red and the yellow was hers.   
  
Lee was rubbing chalk on the end of his cue. “I didn’t realise you and Will knew each other.”  
  
“Oh, we go way back.” She leaned into the side of the table, lined up the yellow ball with the black.  
  
He waited until her right arm was in motion. “Very good friends?”   
  
The black hit the yellow, but not at the right angle and instead of a clean drip into the pocket, the yellow ricocheted off the side and snicked Lee’s green. “Frak.”  
  
“Yes, I think that’s what you did.”  
  
She straightened, met his gaze. He was still chalking his cue, his eyes cold and something in the set of his jaw was so very Zak that she stuttered for words. “What, you both had a nice discussion about me?”  
  
“Oh, he raved about you.”  
  
“I’m glad I was so interesting.”  
  
“What number was he, Kara?” Lee said, as he brushed past her around the table, his voice pitched low so there was no way he could be overheard. “Tell me, was he before or after that Major from Geminon?”  
  
Suddenly, a lot of the last few days started making sense. “Exactly how much research have you done into my sex life?”  
  
“I didn’t have to dig deep.”  
  
She felt like he had slapped her in the face. “What is this, some kind of big brother scare tactic? Checking to see if I’m good enough for the Adama lineage?”   
  
He didn’t answer, and she leaned forward and watched the set of his shoulders, the tug of the material of his T-shirt as he leaned into the shot. The green was right in front of her, in front of the pocket. Easy.  
  
He missed, cursed under his breath.   
  
“Shame,” she said sweetly.   
  
He looked flushed, and she glanced at him in confusion as he fumbled for the chalk. There was still a neat circle of red on the black from the excess of his last shot.  
  
“Your shot,” he told her, not looking at her, and then Zak was wrapping his arms around her from behind.   
  
“How is it going?”  
  
“Good,” she said, twisting her fingers into his, leaning back into him, still not looking at Lee. “I’m kicking your brother’s ass.”  
  
Zak pressed a kiss into her neck then let her go. “Leave him some ego.”  
  
“Yeah, yeah.”  
  
Later, in the bathroom, she was digging through her bag to find her lip balm, trying to ignore the chatter of two girls applying eye makeup one mirror over. She dropped her ID, leant over to pick it up, and caught her reflection in the full length mirror and suddenly realised what kind of view she must have been giving him, with her hands planted shoulder width apart and leaning forward.   
  
She jerked back from the mirror, feeling the heat crawl over her skin and a sick feeling of disorientation – she wanted to hide, wanted to go back out and tell him it hadn’t been deliberate, she hadn’t realised - but she couldn’t stop seeing his remembered his flush, the way his arm had jerked. That made it all even stranger.  
  
*  
  
Lee cornered her while she was stacking the dishwasher a day later.   
  
“I want to ask you something.”  
  
She almost told him to frak off, but he was her guest and almost brother-in-law, and so she bit her lip and nodded. “What?”  
  
“How is Zak doing?”  
  
“We’ve been though this Lee. He’s fine.”  
  
“Really.” The scepticism in his voice was almost the last straw.  
  
“I am his flight instructor. I would know.”  
  
“You’re also his fiancée. I just need to know whether those lines get blurred.”  
  
She whirled on him. He took a step back, but barely flinched when she stepped forward, right into his personal space. “Don’t ever imply that I’m not objective. This is my job.”  
  
“Good,” he said, and he was so close that she could count his eyelashes, could see a tiny scar on his hairline. “Because I’d hate for my brother to pass an exam he never should have sat in the first place because of you.”  
  
She stared at him, the blood pounding in her head so hard she could barely get the words out. “How can you say that?”  
  
“Kara.”  
  
“No, shut the frak up, Lee. So what that’s he’s not as brilliant as his older brother? So what that he doesn’t have your perfect grades, or your feel for flying? At least he’s worked for what he has.”  
  
“I worked frakking hard – “  
  
“No, not like him.”  
  
He shook his head. “You don’t get it, do you?”  
  
“No, you don’t get it, Lee. Don’t you frakking see? He’s working his ass off to be just like you. Don’t you see how he’s compared to you at every turn?”  
  
Then it was Lee stepping forward. “Don’t make this about me.”  
  
She shook her head, clenched her hands into fists. “Why not? It is all about you. It’s  _always_  about you. It’s you he wants to be, Lee. You’ve got everything he wants.”  
  
His face tightened, and he seemed on the verge of saying something before he snapped his mouth closed. “Look, forget I even asked, Kara.”  
  
They managed to avoid each other for two days after that, which was quite a feat given they were living in the same house. She had a feeling Zak was looking at them both strangely now and then, but she was too angry to really care.  
  
*  
  
She woke up, whole body tensing, hearing footsteps in her hallway. She was out of bed, creeping towards the door before she really thought about what she was doing, and pushed it open a little further so she could see into the corridor.   
  
It creaked. The person turned to face her, took a step in her direction and she swung out, didn’t connect, and then she was pushed back against the wall with her wrists pinned so she couldn’t move.   
  
“Shit, Kara,” Lee said, sounding slightly annoyed. “It’s just me. I’m staying here, remember?”  
  
She spent one moment frozen in silence, and then she cracked up. “I’m sorry, I was asleep and totally forgot you were here. Gods, you scared me.”  
  
He was laughing as well, and that surprised her. “I thought you were going to kill me for a second there.”  
  
“You’re lucky I didn’t,” she said, and gave her hands a little shake because he was still holding her wrists.   
  
He didn’t let go. His grip loosened and then his fingers were tracing over the back of her hands, the inside of her wrists.  
  
“Did I hurt you?” he asked, his voice soft and sleep-soaked.  
  
“No.”  
  
He was close, too close, his face in shadow, and it was so quiet she heard the hitch in his breathing, and knew with sudden, paralysing certainty the reason why everything had been so strange. So dark, so silent, and his hands were still on her skin, rubbing her wrists with his thumbs, and he wasn’t Zak, she shouldn’t – couldn’t - be feeling this.   
  
She panicked.  
  
“Good night,” she got out, twisting out of his grasp, and fled, back to the safety of her room, shutting the door behind her and falling into the cool pillows. The skin on her wrists was burning, the blood was pounding through her and she rolled over, bit her lip, twisted her hands into the sheets.  
  
She was still awake an hour later, and she could hear every squeak of the sofa bed as he shifted.   
  
Neither of them slept.  
  
*  
  
She got mad at Zak for the first time in the sims the next day.  
  
“No, frakking turn now now  _now_  – “  
  
There was a pause, and then the screens flickered once, disappeared into blackness.   
  
She was marching up to him before he was even out of the cockpit.   
  
“What the _frak_  are you doing, Adama?”  
  
“I’m not Lee,” he said quietly. “Don’t confuse us,” and it was like he hit her, only it hurt more and she stood there with nothing to say as he left.   
  
*  
  
“When is Lee leaving?” she asked quietly, that night when they were getting ready for bed. She hadn’t thought he’d come at all. Lee was already asleep.  
  
He didn’t say anything for a moment. “You and Lee,” Zak said, and the only thing that stopped her from throwing her toothbrush at his was the sound of his voice; cold, tight and with something very like fear in it.  
  
“For the final frakking time, Zak, I never knew him.”  
  
“But you wish you had?”  
  
“How can you ask me that?”   
  
“Everyone else seems to prefer him.”  
  
A hot wave of guilt, hurt, confusion washed through her. “So you think I’m like that? That I’d just – just –“  
  
“Then what the frak has been going on?” he said. “What am I supposed to think?”  
  
She didn’t answer, turned her back on him, shaking, and started fumbling the toothpaste. There was a long silence, and then he exhaled.  
  
“I don’t know,” he said, sounding tired and beaten. “I’m sorry, I just – I can’t lose you.”  
  
She turned around. “You’re not going to.”  
  
He looked at the floor, his jaw clenched, and she knew then that she could never leave him - Zak who could make her smile, could read her like an open book even on her bad days, who didn’t care what she’d done in the past. Who needed her so badly.  
  
“Zak. I’m not leaving you,” she said softly. “I couldn’t. I don’t want to.”  
  
He reached out then, pulled her to him, his hands tight against the small of her back, her palms flat against his chest. She could feel his heartbeat and she relaxed into him, breathed in his aftershave and soap and wished that his brother had never come to visit.  
  
*  
  
She was in the bathroom when the phone rang, and she heard Lee answer. It was a good two or three minutes before she made it to the living room, thinking it was Zak, and then Lee turned.   
  
“Oh, here she is,” he said, stepping back from the vidcam, and Kara felt a rush of nausea because it was her mother smiling at her, blonde hair shining, just brushing the crisp collar of her business shirt.   
  
“How did you get this number?”  
  
“Lovely to see you too, Kara.”  
  
“How did you get this number?” she repeated, and her mother shook her head, smiled.   
  
“I called Flight School. The receptionist still remembers me.”  
  
“Why the frak are you calling me?”  
  
“I called to see how you were, Kara, what else? I haven’t talked to my only daughter for over a year.”  
  
“You didn’t think there might be a reason for that?”  
  
“Well, clearly, you’ve been busy. Lee was telling me all about you and his brother.”  
  
She couldn’t move, couldn’t say anything. Her mother continued, long fingers coming up to play with the tiny charm of Athena hanging from around her neck.  
  
“I’d say congratulations, but that’s just a little premature, don’t you think?”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Kara, Kara – didn’t I teach you anything?”  
  
“I don’t think I need a lesson from you on relationships.”  
  
Her mother laughed, sounding nothing but amused. “No, you circumvented that problem by adopting an open-all-night policy. I hear it's brought you into quite a bit of demand. As a pilot, of course.”  
  
She stuck the knife in the only place she could. “Heard from Dad lately?”  
  
It worked, for about three seconds, and then her mother recovered. “I hear from him with the regularity that you’ll be hearing from this Zak of yours before the year is out.”  
  
“You can’t say that.”  
  
Her mother smiled, and her eyes drifted over Kara’s shoulder, focussed on something behind her. “He’s an Adama, Kara. They’re worth just a little more.”  
  
She heard Lee’s sharp exhalation of breath behind her, and realised with a shock of absolute humiliation that he’d been there the whole time.   
  
“I think this conversation is over,” she got out, and caught her mother’s triumphant smile for one second before the screen went black.   
  
She was shaking, fumbling with the controller, blocking the calling number out of the phone system with fingers that didn’t seem to want to work. “How much did you tell her?”  
  
Lee didn’t answer for a moment, and she couldn’t make herself turn around, didn’t want to see what was on his face.   
  
“I – ” he said finally. “I told her about you and Zak – I didn’t realise, I thought she knew, she recognised my name.”  
  
“That’s because she was a pilot once, Lee,” she snapped out. “You’re not the only military brat in existence.” She turned around, and he looked down, not meeting her eyes. “Besides, I’m sure you enjoyed having your opinion of me confirmed.”  
  
He flinched. “I don’t think that.”  
  
“No? I remember you saying something about that the other day.”  
  
“I didn’t mean it.”  
  
She looked away, stared at the overhead light until she could blame the tears stinging her eyes on the brightness. “Sure.”  
  
“Kara.”  
  
“Leave it, Lee. It’s fine.”  
  
“No, it’s not.” He stepped in front of her, grabbing her shoulders and she looked down, studied the toes of their boots. Hers were scuffed. His were shining with polish. “I didn’t mean it.”  
  
She stayed silent because she didn’t think she could talk past the lump in her throat. He gave her a slight shake.  
  
“Look, Kara. Zak – I’ve never seen him like this. He never stops talking about you, he’s just – I heard about you before you were dating, this - this brilliant, beautiful instructor who was so patient with him, the only one that cared.” His voice got lower, more intense. “He loves you, Kara. He’s not going to leave you. Not now, not ever.”  
  
She didn’t say anything for a moment.   
  
“Did you hear any of that?” he said, and she sniffled, embarrassed past all reckoning but so relieved that she was almost unsteady on her feet.   
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Good.”  
  
He kissed for forehead lightly, and she wrinkled her nose. “Who are you, my father?”  
  
“Hey, don’t knock it. It’s how I get the girls.”   
  
“Yeah, I’ve heard about the famous Adama forehead plant.”  
  
He rolled his eyes, smiled and his hand came up to brush her cheek, so gently she barely felt it. “Don’t believe a thing she said,” he said softly. “I sure as hell don’t.”  
  
She bit her lip, wiped her eyes with the back on hand and she saw his eyes track the ring on her thumb.   
  
He released her, took a quick step back.  
  
“So,” he said, and smiled at her, the first genuine smile she’d seen from him since he’d arrived. “Want to get your ass kicked in the sims?”  
  
She narrowed her eyes. “Say that again?”  
  
*  
  
Things went back to something resembling normal, but she was still relieved to see Lee go at the end of the week.  
  
He never called. Most of the time, she was glad.   
  
*  
  
Zak was pacing around the room like a caged animal.   
  
“You’ll be fine,” she told him, following him around the room with her eyes. “We’ve been over every manoeuvre that could come up on the exam, and you got all of them.”  _Barely_ , she added mentally, watching him pace it out.  
  
“That was in practice. That wasn’t the real thing.”  
  
“Zak.” She got up, crossed the room, put her hands on his shoulders. “You’re wearing yourself out.”   
  
“My father once said that a man wasn’t a man until he wore the wings of a Viper pilot.”  
  
She sighed, mentally cursed William Adama for what seemed like the millionth time.  
  
“You’ve said that before. It’s bullshit, Zak. Now, don’t worry about tomorrow. You’ll be fine.”  
  
He took a deep breath. “Okay.”  
  
“Now come to bed.”  
  
“Okay.”  
  
It was long past midnight when he finally went to sleep.   
  
*  
  
She’d sent Saunders on her way and was waiting for the next cadet when she saw him making his way slowly towards her.  
  
“Adama?” She flicked through her list, knowing his name wasn’t on it – she’d carefully manipulated her way into writing the allocation of students, to stop this very thing from happening.  
  
“I was told to report to you, Sir,” he told her, saluting crisply. “Nova’s running behind.”  
  
There was panic in his eyes, ands she knew it was matched by hers, and she looked around the hangar, heart pounding. All the other instructors were busy, and she knew she couldn’t refuse, not after they’d kept it a secret for so long.  
  
“Right, Adama,” she said, taking the decision out of his hands. “Let’s go.”  
  
*  
  
When he busted the third flight manoeuvre, she felt something stick hard in her gut, and when the test flight ended, she dismissed him, not giving him the chance to read any sort of look on her face. Shut him out of her mind until she’d finished testing the rest of the cadets. Then she went to the staffroom, sat down, and pulled his report out and stared at it.   
  
Three little boxes, three manoeuvres, and his wings were hanging in the balance. She ran her pen up and down the column, and felt cold all over. He’d done them all before, she told herself. She’d practically seen him pass. He deserved it.  
  
Ranger poked her head in the door. “Done, Starbuck?”  
  
“Almost.”  
  
She clenched her fingers around the pen, ticked them all. It took less than a second, and she stuffed his report in with the others and handed the pile to Ranger. The minute the door shut, she dropped her head into her hands.   
  
*  
  
“Will you cut that out?”  
  
“Cut what out?” she says innocently, leaning further over his shoulder.  
  
“That.” He put the pen down and turned to face her. “I’m writing a very serious letter to my father. Don’t distract me.”  
  
It only took one kiss to distract him enough to get the paper out of his fingers. He sat back, watched her read it. There was such hope in the letter, so much simple joy in pleasing his father and she wanted to write to William Adama and beg him to come to the graduation because his son wanted him to, needed him to so much.   
  
She felt her face heating up when she got to the last three paragraphs. “I think you’re a bit extravagant in your praise,” she said, putting the letter back in front of him.  
  
“I wouldn’t have passed if it wasn’t for you.”  
  
Kara smiled. “That’s not true,” she replied, and tried not to count how many ways she was lying.  
  
*  
  
He was nearly late for his first flight as a graduated Viper student, and she watched as he rushed around her apartment trying to find his belongings.   
  
“You need to go, Adama,” she said, taking a sip of her coffee and swinging her legs, laughing as he grabbed his watch off the counter and tried to put it on with one hand.   
  
“I’m late, aren’t I? Shit.”  
  
“No, but you will be if you don’t leave now.”   
  
He darted back into their bedroom and came back with his wallet, almost tripping over something on the floor. She stifled a laugh and he grinned at her, coming close to stand in front her. She smoothed her fingers over his uniform, looked up at him. He bent and kissed her, cupping her cheek with one hand.  
  
“Love you.”  
  
She grinned, ran her fingers down the side of his face. “I know. Now go. I’ll be here when you get back.”  
  
*  
  
The vidcom beeped late in the afternoon when she was sitting on her bed, the contents of her chest of drawers spread out around her in piles. She pulled it closer and hit the button, expecting to see a repentant Zak, explaining why he was late. It was Nova, looking desperate and devastated, and Kara felt her whole body shiver.  
  
“Kara – there’s been an accident.”  
  
“An accident,” she repeated carefully, and Nova looked away.   
  
“Zak – he, he was coming in for his landing and something went wrong, and – “  
  
She didn’t need to see the tears streaming down the woman’s face to know what had happened.   
  
“He’s dead,” she said mechanically.   
  
“Kara, it – it could have happened to anyone – he just – I – “  
  
She couldn’t speak, couldn’t say anything because she was still expecting to hear Zak’s knock on the door, and she half turned to check before the reality that that was never going to happen again crashed down on her, the guilt slamming into her stomach two seconds later and she gagged.  
  
“Kara?” Nova asked, sharply. “Kara, are you – “  
  
She hit the vidcam off, shoving it away from her and it slammed into her bedside table, knocking over the photo frame and it fell, face down. The glass smashed on the jewellery box beneath it, fragments spilling all over her bed, all over the piles of belongings she’d been sorting out, onto the dark blue material that wrapped around Aphrodite and Artemis.  
  
The material was soft under her fingers, and she unwrapped it carefully, on autopilot until the idols were cool in her hands. She tried to find the words to pray, but she lost it before she finished  _Lords of Kobol_ , and bent over and sobbed and sobbed until she couldn’t breathe, the cold stone heavy and accusing in her lap, until it felt like someone had twisted a knife into her lungs, until she felt arms wrap around her shoulders and Nova was there, her eyes bright with tears.   
  
*  
  
She didn’t go to his wake, and didn’t care what people thought of her.   
  
*  
  
She couldn’t stop seeing three boxes, three sharp ticks with black pen that killed him, less than a second of work, and the guilt made her head swim. What she wanted was the oblivion of hard alcohol but Nova was calling every half hour and she knew herself well enough not to trust herself, not now, when she still expected to see him every time she woke up, every time she turned around.  
  
She didn’t think she deserved a release from the guilt and pain anyway.   
  
The day after the funeral, she escaped the watchful eye of Lee, Nova and Triplecheck and found his room in the dorms (she’d only ever been there with Lee in tow). His bed was still unmade, the sheets tangled and she shut her eyes against the memory of the one time they’d slept together there, only two weeks before, after exams had finished and he was waiting on results. The locker door was still half open, and she moved towards it, pushed through his clothes, eyes burning, and saw one photograph still taped to the mirror, one of her and Zak and Lee.  
  
She took it down, peeling the tape off the corners carefully so it didn’t tear, and sat down on the bed and tried to flatten one of the edges where it was just starting to curl. Then the door swung open, and Lee was there. He didn’t ask what she was doing, just sat down beside her.  
  
"How are you holding up?" he said, after a moment.  
  
"Fine."  
  
He didn’t challenge her. She was grateful for that much.  
  
"What are you going to do?"  
  
"I don't know yet," she replied, automatically, but it was a lie; she had already accepted a post on the  _Galactica_ , because she’d been there when Lee had broken down and screamed at his father, vicious words that should have been meant for her, just like it should have been her, not William Adama, who crumpled onto the couch, hands shaking, when the door slammed behind his son. She could not bring herself to tell either the truth, alienate the last people who cared about her, and she hated herself for that as well.  
  
The  _Galactica_  was the one place Lee would never go, so she would be safe - she wouldn't have to see him, wouldn't have to hear Zak laugh every time Lee laughed, wouldn’t have to look at him and see his brother.  
  
“Think about it,” he told her. “I’m only a phone call away.”  
  
“I know,” she said, and he put his hand lightly on her arm, and she panicked, shoved him away.   
  
“Don’t. Please.” The words came out half choked, and she couldn’t read the expression on his face. “I’m sorry, it’s just - just go, Lee. I’ll be done here soon.”  
  
He nodded, got up and his hand moved toward her for just an instant before he left her alone.   
  
She folded the photo, straight down the middle, and put it in her pocket.   
  
*  
  
It was two weeks later when she was unpacking on the  _Galactica_ , hanging her uniforms in her locker, that she found it. It was still in the pocket and she took it out, ran her finger over the sharp crease that divided the photo in two, and then tucked it carefully in behind her mirror, so only the half with her and Zak was left showing. She touched his face with her fingertips.  
  
Then a page crackled over the system calling the pilots to the ready room, and she closed the door and walked away.  
  
*


End file.
